She's Back
by AdulterousWhore
Summary: "She's back." Its a simple sentence. Two words and eight letters that make the heart in his chest drop like lead. AU One Shot


**I fell victim to the plot bunny. Just an AU one shot that wouldn't leave my brain! Hope you enjoy it!**

She stands, the dim light of the porch highlighting the obvious anguish that lies, etched onto her face. She swallows the panic that rises in her chest, gripping tighter the file in her hand and unconsciously tap, tap, tapping it against her leg.  
>She hasn't been there long, a minute, if even that. But it seems to her she has been standing in this exact place for a while now; standing close enough to touch him, if only she'd ring the damn door bell, with the ghost of HER poisoning every crevice of her mind.<p>

She knocks twice.

He knows something isn't right. The look that lies on her face is nothing but excruciating, emotional turmoil. He steps back as she steps in, not asking if she's okay. He can see as plain as day, she isn't.  
>His eyes watch her pace, giving her the space he knows she needs. They move down to the file in her hand, and for one moment he let's out a breath he doesn't know he's holding. The turmoil that sits behind her eyes is about work, not him. But when she swings round to look at him, the relief he felt rewinds, and as blue meets green he knows that work isn't where this finishes.<br>She locks her eyes on his and let's her legs buckle to sit precisely in the middle of the couch. Brushing back the long blonde locks off her shoulders in exasperation, she feels the breath in her chest hitch, and he's suddenly in front of her; like lightening. Resting down onto the coffee table, he grips her hands tight in his own.  
>They tremor as she sobs. He let's go, raking one hand through her hair and holding her neck with the other. Lowering his face gently onto her head, he let's her cry. She'll talk when she's ready; he knows better than to push those already standing on the edge of what they hold true. And showing the vulnerability she is so obviously riddled with is the most apparent example he can think of.<p>

Her breathing steadies, slowly, but when she moves her head upwards to meet his worried eyes, tears still leak from her own. He thumbs away the water, keeping his hands firmly on her face.  
>"I'm sorry," she sniffs.<br>He shakes his head, "what's happened?" He watches as her tears glisten in the fires light, stronger than before, and suddenly he can count more than one colour in her eyes. "'Livia?"  
>"Do you love me?" She says it quickly, desperately needing to hear the answer.<br>He convays her for a moment, taking in the pain and anguish written all over her. He keeps his answer short. "Yes." And its her turn to hold his face.  
>"Show me," she pleads, catching his lips with hers. "Show me you love me." He kisses her back, not quite matching the urgency and force she emits. Its only when her breath repeats its hitch does he let go of her now swollen lips. "Peter-"<br>"'Livia-"  
>"Please-"<br>"Olivia!" A sob escapes her throat at the use of her full name. "Talk to me!" His eyes search hers as she pulls away from his arms, reaching for the forgotten file she had dropped to the floor.  
>"She's back." Its a simple sentence. Two words and eight letters that make the heart in his chest drop like lead. The file is pushed and pulled from her to him. "This was caught on surveillance in the early hours of this morning," she says, finally gaining control over the ache in her throat that longs her to break down.<br>His eyes are fixed, unblinking and boring into the woman in the photograph. She is nothing now; a mere ghost in their lives. And as he takes in the barely visible detail, he can't believe that he ever mistook this imposter for the woman who sits before him. The woman he loves. He looks swiftly up at her. The pain is less obvious, and a more curious look is now apparent behind her eyes. He knows she is searching for a sign that he still feels something for the double in the picture.  
>He gathers the file, photo and all in his hands before moving unexpectedly to throw them in the fire that roars behind him. He watches her watching the picture melt.<br>Her attention is brought back to him with the graze of a finger on her cheek so light she can't be sure he's actually touched her.  
>"I love you."<br>She smiles, a small but honest smile and nods, lightly pressing her lips to his.

Then he shows her just how much.


End file.
